


we're just feeling fine

by Ideay



Category: Bob's Burgers (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, but no this isn't necessarily a romantic story, i dub this this ship 'lolo', i'm very offended that the official ship name is 'louigan' and not 'lolo', just two brats being utter brats, make it trend people, nb4 anyone starts clutching their pearls - yes i ship them, not really a solid story here, sort of just a collection of loosely connected oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25213516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ideay/pseuds/Ideay
Summary: She can’t pinpoint the exact moment when her soul tried to leave her body, but the words, “Buddy Program”, “Logan Bush” and “Correctional Facility” in the same sentence probably had something to do with it.( or, in which Louise and Logan are given an ultimatum, and neither are happy about the arrangement. )
Relationships: Louise Belcher/Logan Bush
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So guess who binge watched the entire ten seasons of Bob's Burgers within two weeks? Guess who fancies for Louise/Logan? Guess who's still procrastinating on all her fics, nearly seven years later? Yup, this gal.
> 
> Anyway, in all seriousness - I have skimmed the entirety of the Bob's Burgers fanfic archive both here and on FFnet, and damn, there is NOTHING that speaks to me. This is just the result of me craving that IC, non-aged up, not-romantic-but-just-a-smidgen-of-puppy-love, not-super old #LOLO content, you feel? I either see Logan being portrayed as this high school heartthrob, or this psychotic little shit stain that would be willing to murder someone. Like damn, guys, chill. Hopefully this serves as a fix of some kind, because damn, that's just depressing.
> 
> Also, please don't expect don't too much - I'm usually good at outlining a full on story rather than being super spontaneous, but well, I legit was drawn at a blank here. I only have a vague idea of some stuff I want to do with this, but for the most part, it's free real state - so if there's some #LOLO content you've been wanting to read, please feel free to leave suggestions! :)

**we're just feeling fine**

**I**

On a Friday night, Wonder Wharf, several people are shoved aside as a little girl pushes through the crowd on a mission.

“Stop that little girl! She’s stolen a valuable prize!” Gus cries out.

“Shove a cork in it, old man!” Louise Belcher yells back.

.

.

.

Rounding a corner, she skids, just barely avoiding a _very_ serious scrape from the concrete. It doesn’t matter because she was within her _full_ rights to this giant, limited edition, one-of-a-kind, _crossover_ specialized Kuchi-Kopi _dakimakura_ ! The stupid thing was _huge_ , fluffy and _extremely_ squeezable — she _needed_ to have it. It wasn’t her fault the stupid game host wasn’t paying attention, it wasn’t her fault that the plush was _begging_ her to just _take_ him and it damn well wasn’t her fault that Mr. Fischoeder just _happened_ to be waltzing around in her space the second she decided to book it!

“Crap. Crap. _Crap!_ ” Hugging the pillow tightly, it takes everything in Louise not to stop for at least a huff of air. _Okay, Louise,_ **_think!_ ** _— I’ll be at the entrance in no time, and from there, it’s a freakin’ beeline to the fort._ Mom and dad wouldn’t be trusted with the ‘inside’ scoop of her latest act — she’d smooth things over with them later… or tell them she’d won this prize fair and square, and maybe just avoid the park altogether for a couple of months. _‘I got this.’_

Her chest burns with the need for oxygen, and the adrenaline is already starting to wear off, but Louise keeps going. A scoff is expelled, more out of the need to breathe than actual victor. Only processing the fact she’s passed the entrance of the park, she clutches the pillow with all her strength. Cars skid and stop to an abrupt halt at the sight of her. Rounding another corner, Louise continues like her life depends on it, looking behind her just to make sure she’s rid of anyone else.

_I’m scott free, baby!_

She’s too blinded by the premature spoil of her winnings, too focused on the high of the chase, of being the _winner,_ that by the time she turns her gaze back to the front, she’s already on her butt, spine stiff and body tense from the impact against the concrete. Groaning in slight pain, and now a little sour that she’s got grime all over her newest prized possession, Louise spares a glance at the perpetrator, squinting through the poor illumination. 

“What the—? Logan?!”

She must have slammed harder than she thought because said boy is rubbing his side, wincing as he patted the area down. “Goddamnit, stupid kid! Watch where you’re running!”

Her attention, however, is immediately yanked from the stupid boy to the wall behind him. Ignoring his poor attempt at an insult, she tilts her head just ever so, trying to comprehend the spray painted image until noticing the can of spray paint and his smudged hands. _‘Typical, stupid teen boy.’_ An insult is already underway, hundreds on hundreds of them at the ready — annoyance, however, is the most prevalent emotion out of anything else. She’s about to release it, to give him what-for for just _standing_ here in the middle of her way.

But then she realizes that he hasn’t said anything else, his attention —for once, already ripped away from her back to his art project as he grumbles under his breath. Louise should _revel_ in this opportunity, to continue running until she’s _certain_ she isn't being chased. The thought leaves her as quickly as it came — nobody would have followed her out of the park, it wasn’t worth the effort. Stupid Logan isn’t even sparing another glance.

It’s this fact that roots her to the spot.

Dusting off dirt from her prize, she stands, patting her dress and bunny ears. Blinking a few times, she peers just behind him, trying to get a good view of… _whatever_ it is he’s spraying. She’d thought at least that would have been enough to annoy him out of his reverie. Not being able to stand this weird silent treatment, Louise speaks up: “What? Really? _Stupid kid_ is the best you got? What gives?”

He barely exhales a breath, “Beat it, brat. I’m not in the mood for your little attitude tonight.” _’Little?! Oh, I’ll_ **_give_ ** _you little—’_ The good mood of her winnings and the high of her adrenaline rush are wearing off, and a serious case of a tantrum is starting to boil at the pit of her belly.

“What, seriously? You don’t want to know why I was running like a maniac carrying this giant ass pillow? Not even concerned for the well-being of a child, running amok in the middle of the night?”

“Nope,” he makes sure to _pop_ that ‘p’. 

Louise Belcher has never felt so offended! After the heroic mile she went through to push him out of the way against all those snowballs, after the mercy she graced him with, _this_ is how he treats her? With an undignified huff and a couple steps in however, her gaze is once again pulled to the vandalized wall. “Is that…” she squints harder. It’s not like she hasn’t _seen_ drawings before, but she hasn’t quite seen this particular variation either. “Is that supposed to be a pen—” 

This proves to be more than enough to elicit a reaction from him, which she wasn’t expecting. Logan _sputters_ , dropping the can of spray paint in the process. Cheeks now a fierce shade of _pink_ , he turns to her with an annoyed scowl, “ _For crap’s sake,_ y—you stupid kid, get out of here already! It’s none of your business, anyway. Scram, get!”

Admittedly, the sight of him now trying to _cover_ the offending graphic from her view was _hilarious._ Letting a triumphant smirk take over her features, Louise holds her _dakimakura_ close and juts her chin. “Well, _there’s_ a reaction. And here I thought you were _mad_ at little me. What gives? You just _casually_ like to vandalize buildings in the middle of the night? Where are your stupid friends?”

“I _just_ said it’s none of your business!” Man, is the guy relentless!

“Geez, alright, don’t get your stupid boy-panties in a twist; look, if it makes you feel any better, I’m just hanging for a _few_ minutes. I’m sure you can imagine the kind of pickle I’m in, just do the math,” she provides a pointed look to her prize, momentarily unaware how eager she is to hear _praise_. 

As if she never even spoke, he once again diverts his attention away, much to her dismay. Grumbling under his breath, he huffs as he crouches down to get his fallen can. The nozzle has broken off, rendering it completely useless — a miniscule detail, something that could easily be remedied by getting a new can, she’s sure. 

But something so simple, so stupid seems to cause Logan to _lose_ it. 

“Aw **_fucking_ ** _hell!”_ he kicks the now offensive object, letting it clank hard against the opposite wall. He releases a long exhale, as if having just finished running a marathon, before sliding down against the wall, knees drawn together and facing his handiwork.

 _‘What the hell just happened?’_ Louise blinks, stunned and unsure of what had just transpired in front of her. It’s not like she hasn’t seen someone completely lose their shit before… hell, she even saw Logan succumb to pure sadistic anger the time her and Gene dropped the rotten cantaloupe on him. Granted, still _hilarious_ but completely accidental. But… what was _this_ about? 

Well, _crap_ , now she actually feels _bad_ for bothering him. He really _did_ mean it when he told her to scram. 

She’s unsure how to even comfort _herself_ or her siblings when they need it, let alone a teen boy who’s gotten a liking to bully her in the past. One minute she was literally running from one of the more _serious_ heists, with a _hefty_ payoff — and the next, she’d somehow ran into Logan, bother him _and_ witness the beginning of some kind of mental breakdown. This wasn’t her kind of scene, but she just couldn’t _leave_ him there, looking like _that_. 

Her body moves faster than her thought process because despite her better judgment, she’s already sitting next to him, letting the quiet linger.

Eventually, she settles with simply poking him. She’s half paranoid he’ll go berserk like last time; one poke to the shoulder — with no response, she waits a bit and then pokes him twice, and she continues on like that until he responds; namely, by closing his hand on hers. “Stop it,” he says without even looking at her, voice terse.

“A-ha! So it speaks!” He scoffs and she considers that significant progress. He still hasn’t let go of her hand, but she’s not exactly concerned about that right now. “So, what’s your deal tonight? I mean… it doesn’t look _that_ bad, I guess. If I were you, I would have maybe added more _girth_ riiiight… _ther_ —” she points to the specific area of his stupid graffiti art.

He sputters yet again, and it takes everything in her not to laugh. “I told you to _lay_ off. _Stop looking at the stupid wall!_ ”

“If you didn’t want people looking at it, why did you draw something _there?_ Do you know what spray paint even is, Logan?”

“Oh my _god_ , you are so damn _annoying_ . Stuff that attitude, would you, Smellcher? What is _even_ that thing you’re holding?” he points, trying to divert the attention to anything else other than his ‘art’ piece. 

Now _there’s_ a familiar insult. At least now she has an indication that he hasn’t gone off the deep end. All too happy to oblige, she holds out the pillow toward his direction so he could get a better look. “It’s called a _dakimakura,_ you uncultured swine. And it _happens_ to be the _best_ thing I’ve swiped since _whatever_ because _who friggin cares_ ! It has _Kupi Kochi!_ Best thing ever, ten outta ten. Managed to snag this bad boy up from Wonder Wharf — _almost_ got caught, but I’m sure it’s not that important. Nobody would appreciate this thing more than me.”

Logan looks at her like she’s sprouted two heads — a look she doesn’t appreciate him giving her newest prized possession. How could he not see the beauty of it? It’s _amazing!_ “You have some _serious_ issues.”

She snorts, hugging the thing closer as if his words burned. “Yeah, right, _I’m_ the one with issues. I’m sorry, _who_ was the guy who threatened to give me _Reverse Norwegian Stink Hold_ over a stupid melon?” she blows a raspberry. She definitely hadn’t forgotten what Logan did to Gene, and part of her was still pissed about it, yet somehow, unafraid being in his presence. After all, true to his word, he left them alone after Gene took her place; that had to say _something_ , right?

“It was _rotten_ and you did it on purpose!” His glare is exactly like his tone; offended beyond belief.

“Nuh uh! I _told_ you it was a stupid accident!”

“Uh huh, yeah sure, you keep telling yourself that.” 

“ _You_ keep telling _yourself_ that!”

”Keep it up, and I’ll probably even make up for lost time! Your brother _may_ have taken your place that day, but there’s still a reservation up in _Pittsburg_ with _your_ name on it, Belcher!” That reluctantly makes her go quiet, biting the inside of her cheek. Now it’s Logan’s turn to look smug, cupping his ear. “I’m sorry, what was that? Couldn’t hear you!” 

He earns a punch to his arm for that.

“ _Ow, okay!_ Christ, how are you so stupid strong for a nine year old?”

“I’m _eleven_ , thank you very much.”

“Wha— Really? But I could have sworn that… you know what, nevermind. _Whatever,_ dumb brat.”

“Are you really that angry about the stupid can of paint?” She asks in the only way a child could, purely of naivete and full of ignorance. The sudden 180 in topic makes Logan blink, mind trying to catch up with what she was referring to. The subtle sullen expression is back on his face, and makes Louise inexplicably annoyed.

He offers a lazy shrug, jaw grinding in thought. She could be going crazy, but it almost looks like he _wants_ to say something… It _has_ been a while since she’s seen him, and there are nuances and subtle shifts in his face that she could have sworn simply weren’t there before. But then again, she hadn’t bothered to pay attention to him in this way the first couple of times. “Nah, I just… overreacted. Got a few things on my mind.”

Well, that was certainly underestimating it. “What could possibly make you just suddenly have a fit like that?”

In her naivete, swimming in pure bliss that comes with childish ignorance, Louise finds herself to be genuinely curious. This is a side, however fleeting, was one she’s never witnessed beforehand on the boy. The only thing she ever associated with him before the sledding incident was pure, stupid boy hormones (whatever that entails, if Tina’s diary is anything to go by). But despite that, she’s also too intuitive for her own good. The faraway look in his eyes that came after kicking the can seems to vanish in a blink and she isn’t sure what to make of it, but he interjects her thoughts. 

“What are you even doing out this late? Better yet, what are you doing _here_ so late?”

“Don’t change the subject!” she points a finger between his eyes, as if by doing so will somehow bring out all the answers she needs from him, to know what’s got him so out of left field. She’s _intrigued._ And whatever intrigues Louise Belcher, ends up being something she wants to _crack open_ , the same kind of mechanism that’d come into play with her siblings. Except now, it was with Logan, for better or worse.

“I’m serious — for once, you’re not getting crazy rage eyes at me, and there isn’t even anyone _here_ to have _contributed._ I guess, I mean as _gross_ as it is, I’m asking if you’re _okay_ …?” 

.

.

.

But before Louise can even _begin_ to decipher the slight furrow of his brow, or his immediate lack of response altogether, an _extremely_ bright light dawns on them.

Literally.

“Alright, alright, party’s _over_ . Hands where I can see them, _now!_ You two are in _a lot_ of trouble.”

.

.

.

_( Well_ **_balls_ ** _, it’s Sergeant Bosco. )_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, I didn't expect such nice feedback for this story. This was supposed to be just me writing whatever came to mind, but man, I'm glad people are liking it! Thanks guys! <3

**we're just feeling fine**

**I**

Mr. Frond once explained  _ The Butterfly Effect _ theory; how a mere butterfly’s flap was enough to start the chain in a far more destructive and grand disaster later on. To test that, she had scared a butterfly during recess, of which nothing but disappointment came of it within the next few minutes. The fact that the memory came to her  _ now _ about a week later, serves to baffle her more than it does annoy her. 

...and vaguely, Louise wonders if her taking the Kupi Kochi dakimakura was the proverbial  _ butterfly-wing flap _ in this whole mess.

She wouldn’t realize this until much later, though.

.

.

.

“I’m not giving the pillow up.”

“Duly noted.”

Sergeant Bosco is  _ this _ close to taking up a smoke — the annoying little girl had kicked him in his shin, the centre of his chest and elbowed his chin; she had utterly refused to let go of her giant pillow, throwing punches and kicks with the entire weight of her body whenever there was an attempt to separate her from her toy. Much to his annoyance the little girl is looking happily unperturbed as if this is some regular occurrence, which he doesn’t doubt.

“Do you two even know the extent of trouble I can really put you in if I decide to actually hold you accountable?”

Louise perks up, “Wait... are you saying you’re  _ not _ going to put us in the slammer?”

Bosco simply ignores that. “Destruction of private property, loitering, multiple counts of vandalism on private  _ and _ public property, and theft. Am I missing anything?”

“Okay, first of all,  _ I _ didn’t do any of that—”

“Oh really? Because the stupid pillow you refuse to let go says otherwise.”

“ _ You didn’t let me finish! _ I didn’t do any of the stuff  _ before _ you mentioned theft. And to be fair, I  _ did _ pay for this. It wasn’t my fault I didn’t pay the exact amount, or that I didn’t win the game. I fail to see my crime, Chief.” 

It takes until the end of her ramble to realize that Bosco didn’t seem too invested in what she had to say, or even her explanations — he’s eyeing Logan.

As a matter of fact, Logan hadn’t said a single word since the moment they were caught. That fact hadn’t made itself apparent to her until now. She’d call him out for looking so ridiculously pathetic as all hell and slumped into his seat, but can’t bring herself to comment.

Bosco rubs his head. There’s an inexplicable tension in the air that kind of makes her realize how  _ ugly _ this can turn if Bosco decides to do so. She can be in for some  _ serious _ trouble, and for a moment, she feels panic. What an absolute bother — she wasn’t expecting this kind of momentum until much later in her life. She had  _ plans _ for it, for crap’s sake.

Louise’s uncomfortable shifting seems to break the Sargeant out of his self-induced reverie, this time running a hand through his hair. “Quit your whining kid, you’re lucky the only thing I’m doing is calling your parents. Which, in retrospect, probably isn’t doing much, but whatever keeps me in the office longer.” 

In the corner of her eye, just barely, she notices Logan stiffen.  _ ‘Woah, okay, guess Cynthia is scarier than I gave her credit for…?’ _

“Is there anything you two would  _ like _ to say, some kind of bullshit excuse that would  _ miraculously _ let you walk out of this office problem free?” Logan simply works his jaw, still not looking to the man’s face. Louise swings her legs back and forth. He snorts, “Didn’t think so. Both your parents’ must be worried sick.”

“Actually, Chief Lieutenant Sir, I’m  _ supposed _ to be attending a sleepover with some gal pals of mine, so if you’d kindly just—”

“Zip it, kid.” 

Eventually, Bosco leaves the office — something about getting  _ coffee _ before wreaking havoc on the two brats. Louise smirks, chair tilting from the weight she’s applying to watch his back. Knees on the seat, it’s a personal challenge to keep the stupid thing balanced without falling.

“Adults are fragile things. Like puppies, except… not at all cute, or likable. And they’re  _ stupid _ .” she can’t explain the sense of relief when she feels Logan tilt his head back, finally not acting like a goddamn statue.

“You’re telling me. Mom’s gonna have a fit when she sees I’m stirring up trouble like this again.”

“Again? As in this totally  _ not _ being your first rodeo?”

He smirks, but only barely. “Oh please, my face is on the wall at Family Funtime for a goddamn reason.”

“Which is you not exactly being good at not getting caught,” comes her unimpressed tone and a roll of her eyes. “Seriously, that’s amateur.”

Logan raises his eyebrow, “And what is  _ that _ supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what I said: you’re an amateur, sweet summer child,” promptly hopping onto the floor, landing on her feet.

“Your picture is on there too, I wouldn’t be talking, twerp.”

_ “How do you know— _ You know what, that’s besides the point. Still doesn’t change the fact. I mean, no offense, it’s not like you even tried to get away from stick-up-his-ass when he ‘caught’ us.”

“It’s not exactly like you tried to run away either, so what’s your point?”

“Why  _ sir _ , please! I’m just a helpless child, I have no reason to avoid the police. I mean, come on, do I look like I could even harm a fly?” Logan’s response is just to mutter under his breath.  _ “Exactly!” _

“I still don’t see your point - we’re  _ both _ stuck here now, and with any luck,  _ grounded _ till the next century. Not that I give a fucking crap, I’m just gonna keep doing what I want.”

Louise is finding herself to rather  _ hate _ Logan’s sudden negative disposition. It seems to be triggered by the smallest things. She wants to puke… which reminds her, “Hey so, what was your deal with that can of paint anyway?”

“Not this again. Look, just let it go. I got pissed for a second, it’s not that big of a deal. Had a real shitty day.”   
  
“Of course it has been. My sympathies.”

“Wha— Seriously?”

_ “No, _ you ignoramus! I’m just pulling your stupid leg — if you don’t want to tell me, then don’t. I’m not your mom.”

_ “No _ , no you are not.”

Bosco doesn’t make a habit of cleaning his office, so it seems. Running a finger to the edge of the windowsill, she makes a small disgusted face. Eyes peering through the darkness outside, her attention finally shifts fully to Logan. “What exactly is her problem? I mean, I always thought  _ I _ had a crazy mom, but damn does yours take the cake. I still can’t get over her bringing you to that seminar.”

He scoffs, slumping in his seat, “Eugh, you have  _ no _ idea. She irritates the crap outta me! Can’t let me breathe for one goddamn second. She’s fucking crazy!”

“Which mom isn’t though? Parents, am I right?” Rubbing the dusty residue on her fingertips, Louise hmms absentmindedly — at most, she’s… slightly sympathetic. Maybe. Who really knows? She doesn’t. Making her way over to Bosco’s expensive looking chair, she plants her feet on the desk and gestures for Logan to toss her the pillow.

He makes a face but thankfully complies. “You seem oddly lax about being here.”

“Big words coming from  _ you _ — what the hell was up with you and Bosco?” there’s that stupid sulking again, it’s enough to drive her up the wall! Predictably, he doesn’t answer, and at the silence, it takes everything in her not to scoff out loud. Instead, she hugs her pillow tighter. “Ooookay, so anyway, back to  _ your _ point, I’m not staying here.”

Now he’s confused, “...What?”

“You heard my words. I’ve just been killing time, you didn’t actually think I was going to take Bosco’s words seriously, yeah?  _ I _ decide when I hit the slammer, not some cruddy police officer, or whatever. I’m sure mom’s talking his ear off about one thing or the other. Trust me, that lady can  _ talk.” _ Louise throws back her thumb to the glass, gesturing to Bosco standing and looking bored out of his mind with cellphone in hand. “I can guarantee you, he still hasn’t been able to even  _ tell _ her why he’s called.”

If anything, Logan now looks amused crossing his arms like that. “Oh really? You’re telling me you plan on getting out of here and actually succeed?”

“Not just get out of here, but also get out of here  _ scott free. _ That’s a Belcher guarantee.”

“I’m not buying it.”

She merely shrugs, “Like I care. What makes you think I was planning on letting you in on this? You’re a liability, your stupid face just  _ screams _ ‘arrest me’.” And, much to  _ her _ amusement, he shifts uncomfortably under her confident words. He really  _ doesn’t _ want to deal with his mom.  _ Got you, acne covered kitty-cat. _ “I mean, of course, if you  _ want _ in, ya gotta let me know in the next twenty seconds.”

“Wait, wait, wait a second — First of all, how do I know you’re not just gonna throw me under the bus, and second, how do I know you can even do this?!” he whispers urgently,  _ now _ trying to act discreet for whatever reason. 

Louise loves it when she’s taken seriously.

“That sounds like  _ doubt _ , Logan, and I don’t humor  _ doubt _ . Are you in, or not? You’re down to ten seconds.” He doesn’t look convinced, but he looks desperate. At least, desperate enough to momentarily put his eggs in one basket. Wide eyes, chewing on his bottom lip and fidgeting. “Five seconds.”

He sucks his teeth, “...Fine.”

“But I have a single  _ condition _ . Once this is over, you, Logan Berry Bush, will owe me, Louise Belcher, a solid,” she holds out her hand. “Shake on it,”

“You can’t be serious. That’s— You can’t pull that!”

“Oh? What’s this? The timer is down to  _ two seconds _ and I’m redacting my hand… oooh, there it goes! It’s going! Time’s running out!”

The best part about this is that he looks ready to tear his hair out, gaze flickering to Bosco and back to her. “Alright! Alright, fine!” He clamps his hand around hers in a firm grip. Very strong, even her own dad didn’t have such a rough hand. “...Now,  _ how _ exactly are you getting us out of here?!”

“Oh Logan, you stupid teenage boy. You stupid, naive and amateur boy,” she leans back into the chair, hand reaching to the left of the desk, “Just watch the master, and learn.”

Bringing Bosco’s corded telephone to her ear, she dials a few numbers and clears her throat. “...Hello?! Is this 911?! You have to help me, I’m being held hostage by some god-forsaken maniac! He has a knife to my throat and won’t let me go until he’s paid a ransom!! … Where am I?! I can’t exactly fucking answer that if I’m under attack, can I, Karen!?  _ No I can’t hold, I’m  _ **_dying_ ** _! _ Send the SWAT team, send the  _ entire _ police force, send Seal Team Six!  _ Send everyone! _ ” Louise slams the phone, meeting Logan’s shocked expression with a smirk.

Too easily, she grabs a spare mug and hauls it out the window. The car it hits starts going into a frenzy, and she screams, “Help! Someone help! Vandalism!  _ AAAAAHHH! _ ”

“What the hell are you—!”

“Ah, ah, ah. Wait for it,”  _ three… two… one. _ Right on cue, there’s  _ chaos _ . 

Policemen running  _ everywhere _ from the phone call, and then finally, someone crying out,  _ “MY CAR!” _

.

.

.

Louise has to literally tug Logan out of his shocked reverie, speed-walking almost too casually out in the open. Nobody really seems to notice them, or even care, too engrossed in the destruction around them.

Bosco’s screaming is music to her ears.

.

.

.

“And of course, for good measure,” cue the pull to the fire alarm.


End file.
